


Where the Wind Blows

by PhoenixRadar



Series: Magical Creatures • Wizardry & Witchcraft Edition [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, F/M, Pudding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-10-15 15:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17531438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixRadar/pseuds/PhoenixRadar
Summary: Draco saves a bird and wants to nurse it back to health. So he leaves it by the door to the Infirmary. But the Infirmary has no record of a bird being treated for injuries.





	1. His Favourite Spot

**Author's Note:**

> An AU I have been wanting to write for Draco & Luna.

This was one of his favourite spots to be in. His eyes strayed from the tree trunk under him towards the tallest tower on the castle grounds.

The Astronomy tower.

He flinched slightly as the memories broke into his train of thought. They had been nightmares until just recently. Those nightmares had turned into dark memories. Ones that haunted him still but not as much as they used to.

Food was just a way to survive then. Only when it was absolutely necessary. But now he could swallow some without gagging on it. Just this afternoon he had helped himself to a small slice of pudding. His tongue had rejoiced at its sweet tangy taste.

He was now sat atop the same tree from which he'd commanded his 'friends' around, spied and mocked the golden trio over the years. But today, he was completely alone. Left with nothing but his thoughts, wandering eyes and a loose tie his fingers were playing with.

His ears perked up at the sound that pierced through the white noise. A dove. Looking up, he watched for a silhouette to appear in his line of vision. The leaves were rustling against the wind, the reflected light dancing on him and whatever surface it touched.

He looked down in time to see a mixed group of 4th years looking up at the sky with grins on their faces. Something didn't sit well with him. He heard the bird call out, but this time it was more of a cooing. His eyes grew wide as he realised what had happened.

Right in the middle of the group, there was a wand raised high, pointed to the sky. And the next second, the unmistakable body of a white dove crashed to the ground, the short grass softening its landing only by so much.

He didn't bother hiding. Neither masking his obvious satisfaction at the nonverbal hexes he threw at each and every one of them till they ran into the castle screaming bloody murder. Only when absolutely sure of everyone's absence did he kneel in front of the injured aviary and tried to scoop it up. But he wasn't sure how to do it. His first instinct was to poke the bird and so he did.

A short gasp escaped his mouth when its eyes shot open. Its body vibrated under his fingertip. One black beady eye watched him, as he struggled to see what was wrong. And then he felt blood. Turning the bird slightly, fully aware of its talons gripping onto his long robe, he saw its wing. Broken. Bleeding.

Tenderness was what he felt rushing into his arms from his chest as he slowly but surely picked the bird up and cradled it to his chest. He swallowed slightly, wondering if he was hurting it even more with what he was doing. Crimson stained his white shirt underneath his robe but he didn't mind.

Stealing the box of tissues from Pansy's room wasn't a big deal. Laying the bird gently onto the bed of tissues and tucking some tissues into the sides, he raced as fast as he could to the Infirmary.

"There," he whispered while kneeling and placing the box right in front of the door. His eyes darted around to make sure no one was watching before smiling softly at the white bird. He brushed a finger against its neck one last time before knocking hard on the double doors.

Black beady eyes watched as the mop of platinum hair disappeared down the staircase, his dark robes billowing behind him like a cape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They might seem a little bit out of character, so please bear with me. Feedback is always welcome.


	2. Her Bare Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna is visited by Ginny at the Infirmary.

Dinner at the Infirmary had been a quiet and boring affair with no loud guffaws echoing around, no friends to giggle and gossip with. Luna's feet itched to feel the cold, wet ground but they were stuck under the sheets that smelled faintly of lavender and honey.

Her eyes strayed to one large window, its curtains undrawn. It wasn't a particularly bright night what with the size of the moon decreasing every night. It had been almost a week since she had figured out the spell. Casting it wasn't the problem. Feeling every little change in her body, so pronounced, so undeniably physical was. She had been warned of the impending pain but was reassured that it would soon fade away if she kept practising.

Her mind travelled to the most recent memory she had made. It was tender, to say the least. The most tender she had ever felt from--

"Miss Lovegood? What are you doing out of bed?"

Madame Pomfrey's gentle voice coaxed her out of her wide-eyed dreaming, making her turn to look at the tall, plump woman walking up to her with disapproving eyes. Her arms were out to gather and guide her back to her bed.

_When did she get out of bed?_ She looked around and saw the strewn covers on her bed and glanced back at the window. Her fingers came up to lay on her arm, brushing against the bandage. She smiled as she was tucked in. With a stern look, the older woman walked away to her quarters, leaving Luna alone to return to her dreams.

The next morning, Ginny's voice was what had woken Luna up from her peaceful and long slumber. She registered that she had slept in and rubbed her nose to avoid sneezing.

_Breakfast must be finishing then_ , she thought as she watched Ginny settle on the bed beside her as soon as she scooted to make room for her. "How did this happen?" The girl's concern was clear as day on her bright, freckled face.

Yawning and blinking away the last of her sleep, she settled onto the fluffed pillow and smiled, while cradling her arm. "I am alright now. No need to worry, Ginny," she offered a reassuring smile, waiting for her friend to question her again like she always would.

"Yeah. Now. _She_ always makes sure to treat anything as soon as possible," Ginny chuckled, while subtly mentioning the numerous times she had found herself in the Infirmary while practising for Quidditch.

"But how did this happen? Is it just a gash?" Her brown eyes watched the bandaged arm hung in the sling at the middle of Luna's chest.

Luna pondered for a moment, "I tripped, really, over a big root." Her friend only shook her head in exasperation.

"Just a large gash then?" Ginny squinted.

"Yes," Luna nodded.

"Did you have breakfast? Oh--Of course not! You just woke up!" Ginny grinned and turned to look at the doors to Madame Pomfrey's quarters.

Luna watched as Ginny slowly pulled a cup out of her robes and set it on her lap and giggled with glee in response. "Pudding!" she almost felt herself squeal before she lifted the cup and smelled it. "Umm, chocolate," her eyes were bright and she saw her friend respond with a wink.

"I knew you would love it!" The red-haired athlete smirked and patted her thigh. "I need to leave. Classes have already begun and I told Parvathy to let Professor McGonagall know I'll be late to class."

"Thank you, Ginny," Luna reached for Ginny's forearm and squeezed it softly before leaning into her pillows and spooning the first bite of pudding. She hummed in bliss.

"I'll get the notes later!" Ginny called out, before disappearing as fast as she could when she heard the start of Madame Pomfrey's reprimand.


	3. An Empty Tissue Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco receives a letter from his mother and he goes to the Infirmary to check up on the bird.

_Dearest Draco,_

_I am very happy to hear from you. I see that you helped the poor creature out and I'm so proud of you for doing that. I hope it survives, dear._   
_Now that the holidays are around, what would you like for Christmas, darling? I will be going to the city to shop in a few days. You will be needing a new suit, as always, I presume. A black suit to be precise. Anything else?_   
_Keep writing to me, son._

_Yours ever lovingly,_   
_Mother._

* * *

 

 

With fondness, he folded the letter and pushed it back into its envelope before settling it into the niche he had cut into the book shaped box. All he wanted were these letters from back home. His reply sat on the table drying still, as he shuffled in his closet and began to change into his evening attire. Charcoal grey sweater and black trousers.

Maybe he should visit the Infirmary and ask after the bird. _Surely, Madame Pomfrey_ _must've treated it by now._ His heart fluttered at the thought of seeing the little dove again. Classes had been boring all day long and all he had wanted to do was wonder how the dove was. But the quiet snickers and the occasional snorts around him threatened his peace of mind, forcing him to rein in his wandering mind back to the lectures.

Having finally finished whatever research he had had to do for one of the assignments due the next week, he felt excited. Breathing deeply, he pocketed his wand and cleared out his table, before dashing out of the dorms and letting the excitement bubbling within to envelope him.

"I beg your pardon?"

Draco watched as Madame Pomfrey looked up from her table. He stared at her before his stomach dropped at the realisation that she indeed had no knowledge of a bird left by the door to the Infirmary.

"The bird. I left it.." he cleared his throat and lowered his voice, " I mean, it was left in a box of tissues. Did you not _see_ it?" He swallowed as he waited for the woman to answer him in affirmation, so he could ease the pounding of his heart.

"I am sorry, Mister Malfoy. There was no bird. But there was a box of tissues by the doors. It was empty."

He stepped back with his hands stuffed deep into his trousers pockets, masking his disappointment with indifference and a dash of understanding.

"Well, then," he sniffed, standing straighter, "I'm sorry to have bothered you," he bowed his head slightly, before making his way out of her office. He let his eyes glance around the floor in hopes to see the familiar box of tissues or even hear a flutter or the dove's coos. Suddenly, he felt disappointed in himself, at these emotions coursing through him. _Feh, it was just a bird. Not some_.. _some._  He couldn't finish the thought as his eyes caught a pair of wide silver ones staring at him with interest. Narrowing his own, he sneered in reply and stomped his way out of the wing. Not like he wanted to see the bird anyway.

A lie. A big, fat, blatant lie.

And he knew it.

His mind was whirling with questions he wanted to barrage Madame Pomfrey with. _How could she not see the box?_ He had left it right in front of the door, didn't he? It was not even that tiny. And it had a bloody bird in it. With a broken wing. _And possibly burnt feathers_.  _Umm.._ He had knocked hard enough on the door too. _How could she not have heard it?_ But she did say that there was a box of tissues. _So, she saw the box. But not the bird._

_Did the bird fly away? No, its wing had been broken! It needed to be fixed and nursed! And he had dreamt of doing it all!_

He threw open the door, startling his roommates and opened his closet to get his Arithmancy book before dumping it onto his desk and letting his rump fall onto his chair with a loud thump. He remembered his mother's letter. What was he going to say to her now? He had.. _Had he imagined it all?_ He frowned at the blank parchment in his hands. He wasn't lying. No. He wasn't. He had seen it happen. He had even seen the concerned juniors nursing their injuries. They were living proof of the hexes he had cast on them for hurting the dove. Now, why would Madame Pomfrey say that? _Was there someone_ who... _Who killed the poor creature and buried it somewhere? Or did it.. die, on its own?_

The dark turn of his thoughts caused him to rip up the parchment in his hands to pieces making Blaise look at him with concern.

" _..-_ raco _. Draco!!_ "

Draco snapped back to reality and looked at Blaise in annoyance. "What?" he yelled.

"What the _fuck_ is going on?" Draco followed his roommate's gaze and saw the parchment in tatters.

He didn't bother to respond, grateful when Blaise didn't follow up with another question at his obvious dismissal. Waving his hand, he cleared the mess up and pulled another parchment. He needed to distract himself.


End file.
